We Might Fall
by drewvansexy
Summary: "They came together at a time of desperation and sorrow; both searching for the same answer as to why the person they loved most was now gone. It's Scott and Lydia's own way of mourning Allison, finding comfort in trying to feel what she felt for the other." Scott visits Allison's grave on her birthday. (one-shot)


_Allison Argent_

_1994-2011_

_protected those who could not protect themselves_

Scott steps forward and replaces the withering flowers on top of her tombstone with new ones. He hangs his head as he stands in front of her grave. It's January 31st; she would have turned eighteen today. He visits her at least once every week, bringing her the same bouquet of flowers each time. Forget-me-nots, for all of the memories they shared and all of the ones that had yet to come, lilacs, to symbolize a first love, and finally pink carnations, meaning, "I will never forget you". It's how he copes, although he knows he isn't anywhere close to being healed.

He sits down in front of her like he always does; his legs are crossed and he plays mindlessly with his fingers that are resting in his lap. The grass is still wet from dew that settled in the morning but he doesn't care. He likes how quiet it is. Occasionally another grieving face will show up, interrupting his solitude, but for the most part he's left to himself. Sometimes he talks to her, finding comfort in the thought that maybe by some miracle she's out there listening. Other times he stays silent, letting the soothing sound of the wind blowing through the trees calm him. When he does cry, which is more often than not, he does it quietly. He allows his vision to blur and makes no move to wipe the wetness away from his cheeks.

Everyone tells him that his visits are only making it worse. They think that by coming to see her so often he's not giving himself the space necessary to move on and it's true. Scott understands that in order to fully move on he has to let her go but he isn't ready or willing to do that yet. In a way, Allison is still his anchor. She's still what he thinks about whenever he needs to get himself under control. She's still the emotional tether that pulls him out of the darkness whenever he's in too deep. Scott finds that he's angry at the world for what happened. Perhaps he's even angrier with himself for not doing more to stop it. He's never been able to come to terms with her death, still asking why someone so strong and selfless was the one to have fallen.

"I'm sorry," he whispers to her grave. He says it every time. "You told me once that when you turned eighteen you wanted us to get matching tattoos. You said that you knew there was always the possibility that we wouldn't last, that we'd break up and be stuck with the dumb tattoos for the rest of our lives, but you still wanted them. You said that even if we both moved on you could still look at that tattoo and remember your first love. You could remember how you felt, and you could remember how that heartbreak made you grow into the person you would become."

Scott shakes his head and smiles sadly at the memory of her. "After we broke up I always kept this fantasy of us getting those tattoos on your birthday. Even if we still weren't back together I guess I thought maybe you'd still feel the same way, about wanting to remember your first love no matter what." His fingers move towards his chest and he lightly brushes over where the black ink marks the skin beneath his shirt. Directly over his heart, in small, black letters reads _'because I love you'_. "I always knew there was the chance you'd say no... I just never considered the possibility that I wouldn't be able to ask you." He lets his hand drop back into his lap and he sighs. He misses her.

He isn't sure how long he sits there. Usually he stays for a couple of hours but today feels different. Today he can't bring himself to leave. Even when the sun begins to set and the temperature starts to drop he doesn't budge. He shivers as the chilly air brings goose bumps to his arms.

"I thought I might find you here," a voice says. He jumps slightly as a hand touches his shoulder in comfort. He doesn't have to look up to know who it is.

"Sorry... I didn't realize it was so late," he replies, glancing up to notice that the sun is just disappearing over the horizon.

Lydia nods her head. "It's okay. I just wanted to make sure you were alright, I tried calling you earlier."

"I left my phone at home," Scott explains, sighing as he rises to his feet and brushes the dirt from his jeans.

He feels Lydia standing behind him and reaches his hand back to search for hers. She finds his first and slides her fingers along his palm before locking their hands together. She gives him a light kiss on his shoulder and then stands to his side, leaning her head against his body as they both look at the grey stone in front of them.

"I miss her, too, Scott," Lydia whispers, squeezing his hand.

He turns his head for a moment and smiles before turning back. "I know you do. You love her as much as I do."

She nods as she feels her eyes begin to tear up. "I just don't want you to think that because I don't come here as often I'm finding a way to accept this. I'm not. This was supposed to get easier but I—" she stops suddenly and Scott looks over to find her crying.

He doesn't hesitate to release his hand from hers and pull her into him, wrapping his arms around her. She continues to cry into his chest, her tears soaking through his shirt. He kisses the top of her head and doesn't try to comfort her with words. He understands that sometimes it's better to let someone be. He also understands there isn't anything he would be able to say to make her pain go away. When she does stop five minutes later she removes her face from where it was buried in his chest and looks up. He leans his head down and they share a small kiss before she pulls away from him. She steps towards the flowers laying on top of the grave and smiles, recognizing the similar flowers she's seen Scott place there before. Her eyes catch something she's never seen before and her brow furrows for a moment as she concentrates. Another moment passes and she looks up at Scott.

"You added one," she says, pointing to the small white flowers.

He looks down. "They're sort of hard to come by. They come from a tree called—"

"Arbutus," Lydia interrupts and the corners of his mouth turn upward slightly. "Thee only do I love," she finishes softly, her face falling slightly as she recites the flower's meaning.

Scott gives her a sad smile as she walks back over to his side and finds his hand again. He often wonders how Lydia can do it, how she can give so much to him knowing that most of his heart belongs somewhere else. She doesn't question it, though. She doesn't ask for more of him, just as he doesn't ask for more of her. She understands it's the best they can do. They came together at a time of desperation and sorrow; both searching for the same answer as to why the person they loved most was now gone. It's Scott and Lydia's own way of mourning Allison, finding comfort in trying to feel what _she_ felt for the other. They need each other to teach themselves how to love again. They are both broken people whose missing pieces belong to the same girl six feet under. In some ways, it's as if being together helps them keep a part of her alive.

Several more minutes pass by and the sky is getting visibly darker. Scott eventually finds the strength to tear his reddened eyes away from Allison's grave to notice.

"We should go," he says to Lydia, breaking the eerie silence that had settled between them.

She bites her lip, taking one last look in front of her before lifting her head. She looks at him and nods and he gives her hand a reassuring squeeze. They slowly turn away and begin their walk back to town hand in hand. It isn't a perfect relationship by any means. Both of them know that they don't have their full hearts to give to someone else and they accept that. But after losing the person they love most in the world, they give each other the means to feel somewhat whole again. Scott and Lydia place their shattered hearts together and let Allison fill in the cracks between them.

**A/N: i felt i had to write this story because i needed to give myself some way to cope with allisons death. television has lost someone truly special. an update for my other story should be coming soon along with a new story. anyways, i know this isn't ezria but if you did read it then thank you. reviews are very appreciated and you can leave them here, twitter (ezriab26) or my tumblr (ezrafitzgerld). **


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